The Fateful Night
by Serpent and Wolf
Summary: Remus and Harry use a Pensieve to view the night of Lily and James's death at the hands of Lord Voldemort.


"You wanted to see me, Professor Lupin?"  
  
Those green eyes peered a bit nervously at me from under that wild black hair, and the sixteen-year-old boy walked slowly to me and sat down in the chair across from my desk. I knew what was making him so apprehensive. On my desk, between us, was a silver basin that he had seen many times before. None of the memories he'd ever seen in a Pensive were pleasant, and I felt a pang of guilt that this one wouldn't be either. However, I at least needed to see this memory.  
  
"I have a favor to ask, Harry," I murmured mildly, looking at him as gently as I could. He nodded just a bit, waiting for me to continue. "I know it is in your mind," I murmured slowly, biting my lip just slightly, "and you don't need to watch it if you would care not to," I could see him arching an eyebrow now, wanting to know what I was up to, "but I want to see how Lily and James died."  
  
For a moment, I thought he was going to storm out of my office. He looked terrified and appalled by that idea. Yet he, thankfully for me, took a moment to consider. After a couple of minutes, he nodded slowly.  
  
"Alright, Professor. But I want to see." He looked right at me, those eyes perfectly serious. Even if I hadn't wanted him to stay, he would have. He looked just like James when he felt like being stubborn.  
  
"Very well, Harry," I whispered quietly as I raised my wand and set it against his temple. With a few soft murmurs, I pulled it away, the silver mist hanging from it like a spiderweb draped over the wand. After putting it into the basin, the mist already in it swirled. Both the young man and I looked at each other warily before we bent over the Pensive and felt as though we were falling forward, into the memory long since forgotten due to how young Harry had been.  
  
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"James," a soft female tone murmured softly, "come to bed. You haven't slept in three days."  
  
"Something isn't right, Lily," another voice came, this one a male one. "Not a word from Remus, Sirius, or Peter!"  
  
"Dear, the full moon was two days ago. Remus is probably ill, the poor dear. Sirius has probably been taking care of him--"  
  
"He could have still written."  
  
"And Peter probably just has been so nervous that he doesn't dare write. He was a skittish little thing, wasn't he?"  
  
"I suppose you're right, Lily."  
  
The male who had been sitting in the window then slipped out of it, back into the room, and stood. Moonlight lighted his features, and the Halloween air slipped past his face, messing his hair up. Though it was hard to tell when his hair was messed up. It seemed to be in a constant state of disarray, though he never bothered trying too hard to get and keep it in a neat state. His hazel eyes shone behind black-rimmed glasses, and the worry in them glistened. He looked over at his wife with a small sigh, head turning as the baby in the cradle at the foot of the bed began to cry.  
  
"Hush now, Harry. No need to cry. Momma's here," the one named Lily cooed quietly. She rose from the bed, elbow-length red hair pulled into a braid for sleeping. Her emerald eyes were calmer than her husband's, and they mirrored those of the small child she picked up, though his black hair was his father's.  
  
James Potter looked at his wife and child and tried to calm himself. If anything was the matter, Dumbledore would know immediately, and the Headmaster of he and Lily's former school would warn them. Besides, Peter was a friend. He would take the secret that protected the Potter family to the grave with him. There was no need to worry. Though if anything were to harm Lily and Harry...  
  
Suddenly, though, a loud cracking sound came from downstairs, and James's head shot up. A thud followed the crack, and the man identified the sound at once. The front door had just been forced open in a rather violent manner. Whoever it was must not care that they were announcing to anyone with a sense of hearing that they had burst in. The Potters exchanged concerned looks and both hurried down the stairs. James was about three steps ahead of his wife and son the entire time, so he was at the bottom of the stairs, wand in hand, while the redheaded woman was only about halfway down. A shrill scream left her when she saw who her husband had come just about face to face with.  
  
Red eyes with black slits, almost like the eyes of a serpent, peered into those brown eyes which glared defiantly back. Nearly white fingers curled around a stick of yew as the one in all black robes began advancing upon the man standing before him like a panther stalks towards its prey.  
  
James shot a hand back, curling it along his wife's wrist on her free arm, the arm that was not holding her son to her chest, and he gave a slightly rough tug. Going back upstairs would be trapping themselves, so he had a different plan in mind. As quickly as he could, he turned on heel, dragging a silent, yet terribly frightened, Lily along. A quarter turn to the right and he took off racing, her nearly silent footsteps following his. With a mutter, the basement door flung open, and he pulled her down onto the first couple of stairs, aware of the sound of their would-be murderer following. The still rather young man slammed the door shut, leaning all his weight against it as he pushed the lock. The oak would only last so long, but it might give him enough time to get Lily out the back way if he stayed behind. A suicide mission, but to see Lily and Harry safe, it would be worth it.  
  
"Listen to me, Lily," he whispered gently after ushering her down the rest of the flight of stairs. "Are you listening?" She gave a feeble nod, tears of fright filling those eyes and even racing down her cheeks, all the while kissing her son's head to try and get him to stop crying. Maybe if he was reassured, she figured, she would be able to be calmer to. "That rat betrayed us. I didn't think Peter would. Damn him, I thought he was a friend!" James then shook his head. Now was not the time to curse Peter to Hell and back. He could do that once the two dearest things to him were safe. He then looked back at his wife, touching her cheek to try and calm her, "You have to get out of here. Go out the back door. I'll stay behind and keep him busy. You have to-- No, no, don't cry. Please." His plea resounded after she gave a few sobs, tears falling even fasted.  
  
"I won't leave you here to fight him alone, James!" she half shouted, her entire body shaking. She cradled the baby boy closer to her, all the while letting her eyes plead with her husband not to do this.  
  
"You will," James said. His voice was firm, yet there was a tender streak in it. "You are going to go right to Sirius and Remus. Tell them what happened, and then have them take you and Harry to Dumbledore." He moved forward, catching her in his arms as she began to fall forward from her shaking, and he stroked her hair lovingly. After a soft kiss on the cheek, he pushed her away a bit as the sound of the oak door beginning to crack under the force of the spells being used against it reached him. "Get out of here, Lily. Get yourself and Harry out. Now."  
  
"James," Lily whispered quietly, and the dark haired man looked at her. She hated to say this as though he were about to die, but she knew as well as he did that it wasn't likely he'd survive this fight, "I love you."  
  
"And I love you, Lily," he replied with a small sigh, "which is why you need to save yourself and Harry."  
  
After a few slow steps back, the woman gasped as the door suddenly gave way. She turned as quickly as she could and dashed towards the back door. However, as she hurried along, she saw a pile of boxes lying about, and an idea entered her head. She just had to know what became of her husband. As she ducked down behind them, angling her body so she could see James clearly, her child silenced his cries. It was as though he knew he and his mother's life depended on their silence.  
  
"Well, Potter," a cool voice hissed, the male tone unnaturally high, "three times, you have escaped me. This time, you will not be so lucky." Lily watched silently as her husband backed away, and the pale man from upstairs seemed to half float, half slither down the stairs. Those green eyes were wide, but she kept herself from screaming. James uttered something under his breath, and the red-eyed male raised his wand as he shouted in that serpentine tone, "Crucio!"  
  
The black haired man was almost instantly on his knees, but he fought from shaking too badly. After all, he wasn't about to give this one the satisfaction of knowing how much that spell hurt. "Im... Imped... Impedimenta!" James finally managed, thrusting his wand out as cords shot from it, wrapping around his attacker and breaking his concentration for the curse he'd used. Within a couple of moments, James Potter was up on his feet, though the bonds restraining the one known as Lord Voldemort were soon broken by his own spell, and he once again faced the man.  
  
A soft, calm murmur left Voldemort, too quiet for Lily to hear the incantation used, but it took all she had in her not to cry out as her husband was thrown back a good ten feet, right into a beautiful mahogany-framed mirror that had been down there for lack of room upstairs. The mirror shattered, slashing the face, arms, and hands of the one who hit it, and red even began to blossom slightly in one part of that black mass of hair. Nonetheless, James regained his footing and shot a spell at the other, though it was easily deflected. Somewhere off to the side, a box of dishes dangerously close to where Lily and her son were hiding was blown to pieces.  
  
Another spell from Voldemort, and a jet of yellow light, sent James Potter sprawling to the ground, his wand about two feet from his hand. The snake-eyed male began to prowl forward to get to that wand first, but James saw the shards of mirror lying near him and was struck by inspiration. One of his hands shot out and grabbed a piece, feeling it cut into his flesh, but he ignored the fresh wound. He tossed it, managing to get it across the back of his attacker's hand, and a small smirk lit his features at seeing the blood pour from the wound. As quickly as he could, he got to his feet and snatched up the wand. Only a fool would face Voldemort without a wand.  
  
As he whirled around to face his opponent, he hissed a spell under his breath that he had once felt the sting of from a former enemy. A white flash came, and blood was soon flowing down Voldemort's face, one of his cheeks slashed.  
  
"I do believe," he then hissed, all patience lost with this fight, "I've had enough of you, Potter." James's eyes widened as another bolt of golden light hit him and sent him crashing into the very back door that should have been Lily's escape route. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the red-headed woman with the child still clutched to her. He opened his mouth to whisper something, but the words were lost when that shrill male voice shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" There was a flash of green light, and James Potter was motionless, still half against the door, his corpse blocking the exit.  
  
"James!" Lily cried without realizing what she had done. A moment later, the boxes shielding her from view were blasted away, and those green eyes met red ones. She was about to scream but the thought of her dead husband entered her mind. She would show no fear, not anymore.  
  
"Give me the boy, girl. Hand me the child, and you can go free," Voldemort instructed, his tone once more patient.  
  
"Never!" Lily screamed back, half hoping her cries would be heard and draw the neighbors, though she doubted they would be able to help now. "I won't give you Harry! Kill me instead!" She was pleading now, and there were fresh tears streaking her face. Her entire body was quaking, but her hold on her son never loosened. The baby was not yet crying again, though its eyes were taking in everything.  
  
"Stand aside, silly girl," that voice hissed, but Lily made no move to obey, clinging to her son all the tighter. Finally, Lord Voldemort had had enough. "I have no time for this," the male with the red eyes snapped. He raised his wand, and the woman with the child in her arms turned to present her back to him, clinging to her child, doing her best to protect him. She heard the shouted curse, "Avada Kedavra," before her eyes fluttered, and she crumpled up.  
  
Her body was quickly shifted by the pale man, and he wrenched the bundle from her arms. The small baby then began to bawl loudly, making that one wince just slightly at the unexpected noise. However, it hardly deterred his efforts. The baby was placed roughly on a nearby flat surface, and that wand raised again. Once more the killing curse was uttered, and a flash of green light flooded the room.   
  
Somewhere in the distance, as the room swirled and began to fade, that high male tone was screaming in pain as his curse rebounded.  
  
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"James... Lily..." I whispered softly as I felt my shoulders shaking. Both Harry and I were sitting fully back in our chairs. I bit my lip and bowed my head, trying to keep tears from finding my eyes.  
  
"Mom... Dad..." I vaguely heard Harry whisper. He was in tears. Even teenage pride could not keep him from weeping for the loss of his parents now that he had seen it in that fashion. I wanted to embrace him, really I did, but I couldn't find the strength in me to even move.  
  
We looked at one another then as tears escaped me. It should not have come as such a shock to us, what we had seen. We both were well aware that James and Lily Potter had been killed by Lord Voldemort. However, neither of us, I do believe, had expected to see such a battle. I had always lived believing, as I think Harry did, that James had died swiftly with as much of a fight as he had been able to put up though a short one. We had not expected that such a thing as that had happened.  
  
"Kill him," Harry whispered. "Kill that bastard the next time you see him, no matter what I say! I should have let you! But I didn't! Damn it!"  
  
I wanted to say something to soothe him, to comfort him, but I found my throat was too dry. All I could do was nod silently, my eyes giving my word that I would indeed kill Peter Pettigrew as soon as I was given the opportunity. 


End file.
